


Wedding preparations

by MsUtterson



Series: The scenes we don't see [4]
Category: Jekyll & Hyde - Wildhorn/Wildhorn & Bricusse & Cuden/Bricusse
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Violence, Mildly Dubious Consent, One Shot, Self-Reflection, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25654894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsUtterson/pseuds/MsUtterson
Summary: The night before Henry Jekyll's wedding to Emma Carew, John Utterson has to make a very difficult decision.
Relationships: Edward Hyde/Gabriel John Utterson, Henry Jekyll/Gabriel John Utterson
Series: The scenes we don't see [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134038
Kudos: 22





	Wedding preparations

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a production of Jekyll & Hyde the musical that had both Jekyll and Utterson in their late 20s, heavily implied something had taken place between them before the events of the show, and canonically had Utterson unrequitedly in love with Jekyll.

For as long as he could remember, John Utterson had dreaded Henry Jekyll’s wedding day.

It was late and John’s thoughts circled around the ceremony tomorrow. His shoes were polished, his suit brushed, his tie ironed, his hands shaking. Only one thing left to prepare anymore.

Or two, keeping in mind that he was supposed to be giving a speech at the dinner tomorrow. He hadn’t put any thought into that. If, by some miracle, the wedding day proceeded without incident all the way to that point, he could certainly improvise something about the bride looking radiant and the groom unbearably dashing and commendably non-murderous, so please have a nice rest of your life together, have my blessing to make plenty of babies and see you in hell.

At the moment, John was more concerned about the details of his outfit.

It was a ridiculous thing, really. John’s uncle had given it to him on his 21st birthday. Just the sort of gift you’d expect from Uncle Abraham, honestly, ceremoniously handed to him with a solemn speech about the importance of a young man arming himself against the forces of evil. As far as John was concerned, it was better to avoid places where you’d expect to encounter forces of evil altogether, so for years, the sword cane had stayed hidden in the back of his wardrobe.

This time though, he couldn’t really avoid facing the evil. And before morning came, he would have to make his choice: should he take the weapon with him to Henry’s wedding?

* * *

It was a true wonder John hadn’t gotten himself discharged from his work yet. Ever since his first meeting with Edward Hyde a few weeks ago, he had spent his nights worrying, unable to sleep, and his days resting his head on top of the ever-growing piles of poorly drafted wills and contracts that were taking over his desk.

Worrying – or, lately more often than not, wide awake with Edward Hyde in his bed.

It was nothing to be proud of, but after having opened his door to Hyde once, John had ended up welcoming him into the house nearly every night. It was not Henry, but it was the closest he was ever going to get, and since Hyde always initiated it… John didn’t have it in him to say no.

That didn’t mean John didn’t always feel terribly guilty afterwards. What was he doing, taking such risks and doing such things with the devil that was tormenting Henry? And, supposing Henry was in there somewhere, aware of what Hyde was doing, feeling everything – well, how could John ever justify his own actions to him? John was certain Henry wouldn’t agree to him using his body like this. In all likelihood, their meetings were just one of Hyde’s many ways of making life more miserable for Henry.

Still, John wanted it so much he always let Hyde in. Let him in and thought about Henry.

Upon their first meeting, John had been certain – had desperately wanted to be certain – that Hyde was a completely separate creature from Henry, a surplus soul possessing his body. Every time they had met each other since, it had become harder to hold onto that belief. John was disturbed by Hyde’s sense of humour. It was disturbing that the demon had a sense of humour to begin with, and it felt even worse to realise how familiar Hyde’s tone actually was. John could hear Henry in Hyde’s snarky, often scornful words. The only difference was that Henry never aimed his truly biting remarks at John, trying his best to make his friend laugh by describing others instead, while Hyde’s derision was usually directed towards him.

Besides the ways they moved and the ways their voices sounded like, there were two big differences between the two that John could notice, as far as he could notice anything while receiving Hyde’s full attention. Henry had shame where Hyde had none, and while Henry had always been temperamental and tactless, Hyde was downright cruel, both in his words and in his actions. Hyde couldn’t take no for an answer – not that John was in the habit of refusing him, but everyone has his limits – and while John was stronger and sturdier he was, the punches hurt all the same.

Despite everything, it terrified John to see how skinny Henry’s body had gotten, so he didn’t strike back.

* * *

On the nights that Hyde did not knock on his door, John had plenty of time to think about him.

Most nights, John thought about an article he had read in the newspaper, complete with a gruesome illustration, about a girl being murdered at a brothel and the murderer getting away unnoticed. A girl that looked, as far as you could tell based on the messy illustration of her mutilated body, all too familiar, in a brothel that John could well recognise.

How could it be possible that Henry had created something that was capable of such senseless, ultimate cruelty?

And could it be possible that Hyde would do it again?

John had a certain respect for Emma Carew. Sure, when Henry had first told him about her, he had wanted to tear her head right off for taking away the last sliver of a chance that John could keep Henry to himself. But, upon meeting her, it had turned out he had a very hard time actually hating Emma. She was too clever for that, too quick-witted and down-to-earth. John had a feeling that, had Emma been born a man, she would have made a better lawyer than he could ever become.

Had Emma been born a man, there would also have been no wedding to worry about.

And had Emma been born a man, maybe she would have been able to take Hyde’s blows like John did. As she was, with her short stature, John was not so certain.

* * *

The pre-wedding dinner that evening had been the most excruciating affair John had ever taken part in.

It was the first time he had seen Henry in weeks. Of course, he had seen his body – the thought of how familiar, in fact, he had become with Henry’s body made John’s face burn – but this was the first time in weeks he could see _Henry_ in there. Could be sure that the body’s original occupant was in charge of it.

If John still had some doubt as to whether Henry was aware of Hyde’s doings, the way Henry turned red at the sight of him cleared that from his mind. Clearly he could remember.

Most of the evening was spent in agonising silence. Emma’s bridesmaids, Elsie and Clara, tried their hardest to tease the groom-to-be and to talk with Emma, but their efforts were met with stone-cold silence. Sir Danvers mumbled a couple of awkward sentences about young people and pre-wedding nerves and spent the rest of the dinner quietly fiddling with the stem of his wine glass. John, Henry and Emma spent their time by, in turns, trying to catch and trying to avoid each others’ eyes.

While the dessert was being served, Henry excused himself with some unintelligible words and rushed out of the house. No one knew what to say to that, so the rest of them continued spooning away at their puddings without a word.

As John was about to leave, Emma caught up with him in the empty hallway.

“John. You have to tell me what’s wrong with Henry.”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me. You have no idea how this feels like. First I don’t see Henry in weeks, then he comes here tonight, looking completely unwell. He doesn’t speak to me, and for half the dinner, you two keep exchanging weird looks, and then he simply runs away. Clearly you know _something_ that I don’t.”

“I said I don’t know.”

“I said don’t lie to me!”

“Miss Carew… Emma… if you’re so worried about him, have you considered…”

“Now you’re going to suggest I should call off the wedding, right? You would think it’s that simple, wouldn’t you! For Christ’s sake. After what happened with Simon… I can’t. It would ruin father, it would ruin _me_! You understand there is no way I’d be getting a third chance at marriage after that, do you?”

A silence.

“It’s not fair! I’m supposed to be marrying him tomorrow, I’m supposed to be moving into his house to live with him for the rest of my life, but it’s like he doesn’t trust me at all. It’s clear he’s telling you something he’s not telling me.”

“He doesn’t tell me anything anymore either.”

“John, please be honest with me. Don’t tell me what’s wrong with him if that’s such a bloody huge secret, but please, tell me this. Do you think he is ever going to get better?”

A silence, again.

“I don’t know, Emma. I really don’t know.”

* * *

The clock struck three in the hallway. For a short little moment after the unfortunate dinner party, John recalled, he had considered telling Emma the truth.

Had he loved Henry any less, he would have told her.

What was there to do? If Sir Danvers knew his precious daughter was marrying a murderer, he would use all his influence to get Henry before a judge and a jury before the day was out. John knew that to speak of what he knew would be to condemn Henry to a certain death, no matter if Hyde ever came back or not.

But not to speak… Henry had clearly been smitten with the girl Hyde had murdered. Henry had been best friends with John since they were twelve years old, yet Hyde had threatened him with a handgun, had hit and disparaged him… What if it wasn’t Henry who stood by the altar tomorrow but Hyde, and what if Emma looked at him the wrong way? Or what if Sir Danvers got in his way, or someone else? What if Hyde didn’t arrive unarmed?

Could John stand there and watch and not do anything?

For as long as he could remember, John Utterson had dreaded Henry Jekyll’s wedding day.

Placing the sword cane by the clothes he would put on when morning came, he wished, for the millionth time, that the day he would have to attend his best friend’s wedding would never come.


End file.
